


Bård gets hideously injured

by LillieWescott



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillieWescott/pseuds/LillieWescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because the public demanded it...  Bård gets hideously injured.  It's just silly, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bård gets hideously injured

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lundsdotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lundsdotter/gifts).



> This story is for a comment left in the second-to-last chapter in my "Ylvis Saves the World Story" which read: "...please please... let bård be hurt bad be still my beating heart..." I couldn't bring myself to drastically change my last chapter into a medical tragedy so I've written this new little story to fill in the injury void. 
> 
> Enjoy, I guess (?)

Vegard leaned over the roof's edge and threw strings of beads at the throngs below them. "Bård, you're missing all the best costumes." He poked the brim of his cowboy hat with his finger to better see the spectacle.

"Mm-hmmm." Bård frowned down at his smartphone. 

Vegard shook his head, "How can you look at your phone? It's Mardi Gras and we're in New Orleans! And a beautiful night. Look at the moon! It's huge!" A wolf howled in the distance.

"It can't be Mardi Gras, it's October, and we're in Norway."

Vegard rolled his eyes. "If you say so. What are you looking at that is making you frown like that?"

Bård sighed. "Well, I was reading this excellent account of how we saved the world last December…"

Vegard nodded and threw a chocolate truffle up into the air. He caught it between his perfect white teeth, running his tongue around the treat and slowly drawing it into his mouth. "And?"

"Well, someone commented that they were really hoping I would be terribly injured."

Vegard still rolling the chocolate around his perfect mouth, sidled next to his brother, the spurs on his boots jingling with every step, and said thickly, "You don't mean…"

Bård let out a slow breath and ran a hand through his perfect golden Viking hair. "I have to keep the fans happy, Vegard. It's my sole purpose in life. Here, hold my phone."

"Yep." Vegard took Bård's phone and slid it into his leather vest next to the deed to the family gold mine. "But I can't let you do this, my brother."

Bård shook his head and said, "There was a spiked wrought iron fence in front of this hotel, wasn't there? I could probably get that to go right through my ribcage."

Vegard grabbed Bård's black skintight sweater, his fingers unable to grasp the hard masculine and muscled flesh beneath. "You'll never survive, Bård, it is five stories down. Think of the children!"

"This is bigger than you or me, Vegard. This is for the world." Bård shrugged off his brother's grip and took a running start towards the roof's edge. As his feet left the edge of the building he could see everything: the brightly colored dancers in their sparkling costumes, the herds of jumping kangaroos, the knife jugglers and fire eaters strutting in perfect circles, the pastry chefs hawking their wares, the marching bands… and then he realized with horror that he'd never make it down to the spiked fence because a large green awning was in his way. As he hit the awning he heard Vegard screaming his name far above him… and everything seemed to move in slow motion…

Vegard watched in horror as he saw Bård bounce off the green awning, up into a tree, down through the tree branches, onto the giant head of a jester turning rapidly on a colorful float and then onto the ground, only to be kicked back into the air by the kangaroo herd, bouncing up over and over again like a great flopping human volleyball, and then into the midst of the knife jugglers and fire eaters. Vegard held his breath a moment and then saw Bård fly upwards again, now pierced by a dozen knives, his body engulfed in flames, only to fall into a food stall through a tall rack of cakes and face down into a meringue pie. In a chilling turn of bad luck, he was immediately trampled by the Ohio State University marching band drumline, who ironically were playing their version of "Mr. Toot".

"Make way! Please, I'm his brother!" Vegard fought the crowd that had formed around Bård's bleeding and broken body. At least someone had had the kindness to put out the fire on his clothing with a blanket or cloak and lift him out of the pie. Bård lay face up, his sky blue eyes staring blankly up into the clear night, his broken and smouldering body lying askew on the damp pavement. 

Vegard gave his horse's reins to a woman standing over his brother and dropped to his knees. He cried out, "Someone call for help!" and then tenderly drew Bård's head into his lap. "Why, Bård? Why do you do these things? Why do you try _so goddamn hard?"_ He blinked his large mysterious dark eyes and giant clear, sparkling, perfectly spherical tears splashed down onto Bård's face.

Bård coughed up blood and gasped, "I want the fans… to be happy. Are they… are they happy, Vegard?"

Vegard sniffed wetly, "Yes, they're happy. You brave, brave, foolish man."

Bård smiled faintly, blood on his almost perfect but equally white teeth. "That's good… but I think I got blood on your Sheriff's badge." 

Vegard choked out a laugh. "That's okay, Bård, the townsfolk will understand." Vegard turned his head to spit out tobacco juice and then whispered, "Don't leave me, Bård…"

Bård's body trembled and he grasped Vegard's red neckerchief and whispered urgently, "I will always… love… hrrrrrrk… blehhhhh." And he was gone.

Vegard shook his head, disbelieving. "No! NO! Bård, wake up! WAKE UP!!!!" He rocked back and forth, weeping with grief, holding Bård's mangled, but yet still somehow beautiful, body in his arms. 

Two polished black shoes appeared next to Vegard. "HALLO!"

Vegard looked up, barely able to see past his tears. The shoes belonged to a tall blond gangly man wearing a perfectly fitted black tuxedo. Vegard asked with disbelief, "Calle?"

Calle took a drag from the cigarette he had in one hand. His other hand was curved around the waist of one of the half-dozen supermodels that were clinging to him like monkeys on a banana tree. He blew out a ring of smoke and said, "Why are you on the ground crying over a giant meatloaf?"

Vegard choked out, "That's no meatloaf, that's Bård!"

Calle bent down straight from the hips and said, "He doesn't look too good there, Sheriff."

"Can't you do something? You're magic, aren't you?"

"Oh. Right." Calle disengaged one of the supermodels and reached into his designer tuxedo jacket. He pulled out a long wand with a golden star at the end. "I'm not sure this will work. The spell is in Swedish. I'm shit with Swedish."

Vegard grabbed Calle's leg. "Please, please help him. I'll do anything. Anything."

Calle raised a brow and then gave a little toss of his platinum hair. "That will be an entirely different story. Can you just point to where his head is supposed to be?"

Vegard pointed and Calle daintily touched Bård with his wand with the invocation, _"För allt smör i Småland!"_

The gathered crowd took a step back as Bård's body was bathed in golden light that grew brighter and brighter until even Vegard had to turn his head away. Then he heard the voice he loved so well.

"Vegard?" Bård's perfectly manicured long fingers took hold of the lasso at Vegard's side and tugged at him. 

Vegard turned to look at his brother with joy. "Bård, you're okay!"

Bård winced and looked down at his now naked but still perfect and shining body. "Why am I holding a bassoon?"

Calle gathered up his supermodels. "Sorry for that, Bård, I'm terrible with Swedish."

Vegard squinted up at Calle, "Why were you here, anyway? I thought you were in Oslo."

"Interpol stuff."

"Oh right."

Bård rolled to his side and stood, his perfect naked golden body radiating health and vigor, causing the awestruck and now hopelessly enamored crowd to applaud wildly. He handed the bassoon to a little orphan who beamed up at him with thanks. Vegard stood as well, adjusted his chaps and went to his horse, pulling himself easily into the saddle. He walked the horse to where Bård stood basking in the adoration of the crowd and held out his hand. "Need a ride, partner?"

Bård smiled up at him and took his hand, swinging up to sit behind him. As they rode into the starry night, Bård asked, "Can I have my phone back?"

Vegard answered, "Nope."


End file.
